


Another Flashing Chance

by Sulwen



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Glam Rock RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-31
Updated: 2011-07-31
Packaged: 2017-10-22 00:45:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sulwen/pseuds/Sulwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Flashing Chance

**Author's Note:**

> One year ago today, I posted my very first Adam Lambert fanfic: "The Crystal Ship." This is the original LJ post, unlocked because I'm sentimental like that: http://sulwen.livejournal.com/327567.html
> 
> Here, as a gift to all my amazing readers, is a little sequel to that very first fic. Thank you, every single one of you.

Tommy slips out of Adam's lap, mostly blind, and fumbles his way to the bathroom with one hand flailing out in front of him. He finds the sink and starts to scrub slowly warming water into his lashes, loosening the hold of old makeup until he can blink his eyes open and meet himself staring back in the mirror. His hair is a disheveled mess, and he has smudged-black raccoon eyes, and there are lines on his face from sleeping against Adam's wrinkled t-shirt.

_Adam._

Everything goes from slow and morning-blurred to sharp and still, and something warm and tentative and a little bit excited steals its way through Tommy's chest, overwhelming. He goes to the bathroom door and peeks around the corner, half expecting to see an empty sofa, nothing but the setting of an incredibly vivid dream.

Without Tommy's weight on his legs, Adam's shifted, stretched out on his side with his head pillowed on one arm. He's still sleeping, face totally at rest as Tommy comes closer and sits down on the floor, and though Tommy doesn't want to wake him, it's impossible not to touch, to reach out and brush a strand of hair away from his eyes. It feels almost illicit, too forward, assuming too much...and then he remembers the way Adam had laughed into his mouth after kissing him, and the way Adam had pulled him so close, and his fingers shake a little less.

Adam comes awake moments later, opening his eyes to find Tommy looking right back. He doesn't startle, like Tommy might have expected, and he doesn't laugh. Instead, a slow, sweet smile spreads across his mouth, and his eyes crinkle at the corners, and he reaches out to take Tommy's hand.

Tommy feels like he should say something, something a little bit sweet and a little bit funny, like Adam's so good at. But there are no little bits floating around his head right now, everything much too big, much too... _much_ to say out loud now. Maybe ever.

It's so much easier to lick his lips and lean forward and lay the lightest of kisses on Adam's mouth, eyes sliding closed, heart trip-beating in his chest. It's the first time he's ever kissed another guy, actually made the decision to _do it_ instead of waiting for it to happen to him, and from the way Adam smiles at him afterward, he knows it.

“Oh baby, come here...” Adam says, pulling at his hand. “No, wait, this couch is way too small. Bed.” He stands and stretches and plucks at the t-shirt he's wearing, wrinkling his nose. “Never let me sleep without showering after a show ever again.”

Tommy's about to reply, but then Adam's taking his shirt off and shimmying out of his pants and crawling under the neat hotel bedsheets in nothing but his underwear, and his voice just sort of fades away, overwhelmed again.

Adam gets himself comfortable and throws the sheets back, waiting, and slowly Tommy realizes that that's _his_ spot. That's where he belongs.

He follows Adam's lead and shucks his clothes to the floor, everything but boxers, and slips in next to Adam before he has time to get self-conscious. And Adam hums happily and wraps him up in his arms and pulls him close, breathing already slowing toward sleep again.

Tommy means to sleep. He really does. It's way too early, and the past three days have been completely exhausting, and he can feel his body wanting it. But Adam's bare chest is pressed right against his, and their legs are all tangled up together, and he can still taste Adam on his lips, and there's something his body wants _much_ more than sleep right now.

Adam notices, of course, could hardly ignore the restless little twitches of Tommy's hips, the occasional brush of hardness against his thigh. He doesn't even open his eyes, just gives a little smirk and rolls over, pinning Tommy under the whole length of his body, grabbing him by the wrists and pressing them into the bed. And it's not skin on skin, but it doesn't matter, Adam nosing into the crook of Tommy's neck and breathing harder and rolling his hips like no one else can, and Tommy throws his head back and forgets the world and lets Adam push him right over the edge, warm satisfaction bleeding all through him, Adam's own low moan hardly registering through the afterglow.

Tommy comes down to the feeling of Adam stripping him of his underwear, using them to give a cursory swipe to the wet mess before tossing them to the floor along with his own. Then he nudges Tommy over on his side and spoons in close behind him, reaching over to grab his hand one more time.

“Sleep now, Tommy Joe,” he murmurs, lips brushing Tommy's ear, and this time he thinks he can, body languid and mind drifting, and Adam a solid warm weight behind him.

Falling asleep is as easy as falling in love. Slow. Irresistible. Wrapped up in Adam.


End file.
